The Last Year
by Frannie1
Summary: It is Draco Malfoy's last year at Hogwarts. He has changed, no longer caring about Harry Potter and his fan club or his father. He desires only to be alone and to be left alone. But perhaps what he really needs has been in front of him for six years.
1. Chapter One

Draco Malfoy stared out the window of the Hogwarts Express. He hated taking the train. Lucius, his father, should have had enough power so he could arrive at school a different way. He wished he could Apparate, but Apparation was impossible on the school grounds. Draco sighed heavily as Crabbe grunted his name repeatedly. Finally, he humored him with a, "What do you want, Crabbe?" He turned to see the thick-headed goon staring blankly at him. "It better be something important, because I can't be bothered with some imbecilic commentary." Crabbe suddenly seemed to have forgotten what he wanted to say, as he turned away from Draco and murmured something to his companion, Goyle. Draco rolled his eyes. They were such idiot. But they did make good cronies. After all, he had to face that he was a rather slight boy and he needed them to throw weight around at Hogwarts. He could see the castle in the distance, with its lights glimmering in the many windows, and he frowned. It wasn't that he didn't want to go to school; he just preferred being at home. Though with his father around... 

"Draco, we'd better change into our robes," Goyle said slowly. "We're almost there." 

He stared at them. "Well, get out, then," he snapped. "_Colloportus_." Slowly, Draco put his robes on and was fastening his tie when someone began banging on the compartment door. "_What_?" he demanded, whirling around. Ginny Weasley was standing before him, looking dirtier and poorer than ever. He opened the door. "What do _you_ want, Weasley?" 

She rolled her green eyes toward the ceiling. "I'm not here to see you, Malfoy, if that's what you're thinking. "All of the Prefects are making their way to the front compartment, in case you didn't get the message." 

"Sorry to trouble you," he sneered. 

"You know," she began heatedly, "if you weren't such a little wart, some of the other Houses might have a little more respect for you." 

"Well, it's a good thing I don't care about the respect of the other Houses then." Draco watched her with hard blue eyes as she swept out the door. When she was out of sight, he left the compartment and stalked down to the front of the train. He was dreading entering the compartment; all of the people he hated most would be there: Ginny and Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Pansy Parkinson, and Harry Potter. Potter, of course, had been made Head Boy. Draco had expected nothing less from Dumbledore, the old coot. 

They were all there, he noticed, by the time he arrived. As always, he was the last to know. The Gryffindors frowned at him and Pansy Parkinson squealed, "Hey, Draco, how was your summer? Mine was a blast." 

"I'm sure," Draco said sarcastically. He sat down next to her and waited for somebody to say something. 

Ernie Macmillan was the first to speak. "Well, I for one think our aim as Prefects and such should be to dispel some of the rumors that have been flying around lately and also to lower the level of fear, especially among younger students." He smiled at Harry and Hermione. "And then I think we ought to give a round of applause to Harry Potter and Hermione Granger for making Head Boy and Girl!" He started clapping and the other Prefects joined in instantly. 

Draco and Pansy, however, did not clap. "Everyone knows that Potter is old Dumbledore's favorite. It's no surprise he made him Head Boy." 

Harry stared at him. "I suppose you're just jealous, Malfoy," he said. "And that's no surprise." 

Draco smirked at him. "That's right, Potter, I'm jealous of you." 

"You tell him, Draco," Pansy jeered. 

Draco turned on her angrily, "Quiet, Parkinson. If I needed your help, I'd ask for it." 

"Hmph!" Pansy crossed her arms and looked the other way, turning her nose up. 

Suddenly the train slowed and came to a stop outside the station. "Well, let me offer my sincerest congratulations to you two," Draco sneered at Hermione and Harry, pushing past them and walking out into the aisle. He shoved past several younger students toward the door and jumped out. He wasn't in any rush, but he was hoping to get a carriage to himself. He was sure Crabbe and Goyle would try to follow him, so he slipped into one at the back. He drew the curtains shut, but held one so that he could peer outside. There they were, the bumbling oafs, lumbering up the road. He dropped the fabric as they passed by, hoping they hadn't seen him, but secretly knowing that they wouldn't have recognized him if they had. 

Draco sat in the empty carriage for a good fifteen minutes before the doors opened and several students flooded in. 

"Oh, great," Ron Weasley said. "C'mon, let's find another carriage--quickly." 

"We can't--they're all full." Ginny stepped inside and sat opposite Draco, next to her brother. 

"Well, where's the rest of the Potter fan club?" Draco asked, moving to the far right of the seat to distance himself from Ron's owl. "Keep that rabid beast away from me, Weasley." 

Ron scowled and looked to his younger sister. "Are you sure there aren't any other carriages?" 

Ginny nodded. "Positive. I checked. Hermione offered to squeeze us in, but I told her we'd find another." 

"Thanks a bunch, Ginny," Ron said, straightening himself up. 

Ginny frowned at him and tied her flaming-red hair back into a ponytail. "It's not so bad. Draco has hardly said a word." 

He stared at them, wondering why he hadn't kicked them out of the carriage. Actually, when it came down to it, Ginny was probably the least annoying Weasley, Ron being the most irritating, of course. Maybe it was because she actually appeared to live in a _normal_ house. She wasn't nearly as much of an eyesore as the other Weasley children. 

When they arrived outside the doors of Hogwarts, Ron jumped out, dragging his caged owl with him. Ginny giggled and gave Draco a small smile before stepping out herself. He narrowed his eyes and slowly stepped out after a moment. He saw Ginny running up the stairs to catch up with her brother, Harry, and Hermione, her too-long robes billowing out. Obviously, in an effort to save money, her parents had gotten robes that were too big in anticipation of a growth spurt. Apparently she hadn't grown enough. 

He shook his head as he sat in the Great Hall later that evening. Why was he even thinking about this? He didn't care about Ginny or any of the other Weasleys. He ignored Dumbledore's droning voice and refused to stare into those piercing eyes behind the half-moon glasses. The old man would never die, it seemed. He'd figured Dumbledore would have snuffed it by now...he'd hoped it would happen. 

"Draco. Draco, are you listening to me?" 

He looked to his right. It was Katherine Williams, a black girl in her fifth year. "What is it now? Has someone put batwings in your pumpkin juice again? Or maybe they've bewitched your tie so it keeps choking you." 

She quirked an eyebrow. "You're very amusing. I was trying to tell you that Dumbledore's finished talking and you can eat." 

He glanced up at the head table where the professors were now eating and talking animatedly. "Oh. Thanks." 

"So, you shared a carriage with the Weasleys?" she questioned. 

"Kat, don't start with that," Draco said irritably. "I _wanted_ a carriage to myself--away from Crabbe and Goyle, if you must know--and then they just burst in." 

"Why didn't you just kick them out?" Kat asked. "Letting them stay is awfully uncharacteristic of you." She smiled. "Maybe you've gone soft over the summer." Her eyes lit up, as if she had remembered something. "I _did_ think it was strange that you sent me a birthday card." 

"It was a weak moment," he explained, taking a sip from his goblet of pumpkin juice. "When do you reckon he'll snuff it?" he questioned, nodding toward the Headmaster. 

"Who?" Kat asked. 

"The old man--who do you think?" 

"What is with your preoccupation with him, anyway?" Kat asked. "I mean, he does favor Harry Potter a bit, but he's always been a good Headmaster." She watched him with wide hazel eyes under long dark lashes. "I don't mind him. You know, if I had been here when this whole Harry Potter rivalry began, I would have stopped you. I think it's gone too far now." 

"Stay out of my life, would you?" Draco snapped. She turned away and started eating, now ignoring him. He rolled his eyes. After a few moments, he said quietly, "Sorry." 

"You should be," she replied haughtily. "You know, I only try and make civil conversation with you." 

"You should know by now that I don't often _make_ civil conversation with people," Draco said a little forcefully. "We wouldn't even be friends if it hadn't been for your persistence. God knows my father doesn't approve of you at all. He knows you're Muggle-born, you know," he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I don't know how he found out." 

"Well, I'm not too worked up about it," Kat said casually. "It really doesn't affect my day-to-day life as it does yours." 

"I don't care about that kind of stuff anymore," he shot back. "I used to, but now I don't. Let's just drop it altogether, all right?" 

She straightened in her seat and started working on one of the meat pies. Nothing ever seemed to bother her. He could call her a Mudblood a hundred times and she wouldn't flinch. He watched a lock of her dark hair swing out of place and hang menacingly close to her plate. Slowly, he reached out and tucked it behind her ear. 

"Draco," she said loudly, slapping his hand away. "Don't touch my hair." 

"Sorry," he said, taken aback. "It was about to land in your food. I didn't want you to mess up your hair." He couldn't believe it. He had finally gotten to her, and by touching her hair, no less. She gathered up her hair and put it in a ponytail. Kat glanced at him quickly, and then looked away. "You're lucky I didn't take your head off. I don't let men touch me. Of course..." She giggled and continued, "You're hardly what I'd call a man." 

"Shut up." With a sideways glance along the aisle at the head table, he turned to her again and asked, "Do you want to get out of here?" 

"And go to the common room, oh boy." She rose from the bench and grabbed her bag. 

He looked at her for a moment, and then stood up and followed her. Behind him, he heard Crabbe question stupidly, "Draco? Where're you off to?" He ignored Crabbe's query, of course, and walked faster to keep up with Kat's quick pace. 

"You're so slow, Draco," she commented, laughing. "You've gotten so used to walking with those huge oafs. What are they called--oh, yes, Crabbe and Goyle. I never liked them." She was beginning to sound like Hermione Granger, he thought, as she prattled on. "Of course, they used to bully me when I was a first year." 

"They bullied you?" he asked, genuinely concerned. 

Kat nodded. "Yes, but being the clever little witch that I am, I was almost always able to outsmart them." 

Draco snorted. "That wouldn't take much." 

"Crabbe and Goyle don't use wands, I found." She quickened her pace as they neared the dungeon Common Room. "It was pretty easy to slip past them--just a quick Leg-Locker Curse and they'd be down. I also found _petrificus totalus_ quite useful." Draco smiled slightly as they stopped outside the portrait of Goodwin the Ghastly being beheaded. "Why have you been friends with them for so long?" she asked seriously. "I mean, I'd have dumped them long ago." 

"They make certain aspects of my life easier," he answered vaguely. 

"Are you going to say the password or what?" Goodwin asked impatiently. 

Kat frowned at the painting and said clearly, "Grindelwald." The portrait swung open and they stepped inside. Kat smiled. "I love this place." 

Draco understood why. He was positive the Slytherins had the most lavish Common Room in the whole school. Elaborate chandeliers hung from the ceiling, giving the room a fair amount of, but never too much, light. They had a library of ancient spell books and many on the Dark Arts. They were interesting, but nothing in them was of any danger to the students and, therefore, worth reading. Draco thought that was unfortunate, but all of the _really_ interesting information was found in books in the Restricted Section of the library. Some of them had been nicked by Slytherins and brought back to their Common Room for further reference. Draco had stolen a few, himself, but they had turned out to be useless. 

"You know," Kat said suddenly, "it's people like you who give Slytherins a bad name." 

"People like me," he repeated slowly. "Well, there were a lot of 'people like me' before I was even born, so why don't you blame them? Slytherins have always been different from the other Houses...since Hogwarts was founded. Haven't you heard the stories a hundred times?" 

"No," she answered shortly, "I haven't." She started up the steps to her dormitory. "You know, if you're trying to break the mold for a certain Gryffindor, you haven't made a very good start." 

"What are you talking about?" he demanded. "If you're insinuating what I think you are, you've--" 

"What, Draco?" she mocked. "Will you be angry with me? Will you torture me with your little wand? I have eyes, and I know you've changed." She disappeared up the stairs. 

He sighed in frustration and stormed up to his own dormitory. The nerve of her! He did not like Ginny Weasley in any way, shape, or form. She was a Gryffindor--for God's sake, she was a _Weasley_! He didn't consort with Weasleys. He entered his dormitory and saw his raven perched inside its cage. Roughly, Draco opened the cage, and said, "Go on, Edgar, get out." The shining black raven hopped out of the cage and took to the air. Angrily, Draco kicked his bed. "_Honestly_. Ginny Weasley." He opened his trunk and started unpacking his clothes, forcefully shoving them into the dresser drawers. To his surprise, there was a folded piece of parchment laying inside his trunk. "Something Father forgot, no doubt," he said to himself, unfolding it. 

_Dear Draco,_   
_I hope this letter finds you well and adjusted in your last year at Hogwarts. I do not recall if I have mentioned to you how proud I really am. At times, last year, I felt that you were slipping away. I hope that you will live up to my expectations and not disgrace the Malfoy name. I must stress the importance of not participating in anything suspicious this year as Harry Potter is itching to frame you. He believes me to be involved in the Dark Arts and would like nothing more than to involve you as well. Please heed my words, Draco. It would be best if you did not return home at Christmas, but expect another letter from me soon._   
_Lucius Malfoy_

Draco rolled his eyes and tore the letter up. "_Incendio_," he said, pointing his wand at the parchment, and it burst into flame. He sat down on his bed and watched the paper slowly turn black. He sat there for at least another half an hour, long after the flames had died out and the paper had turned to black ash. 

Crabbe and Goyle stumbled into the room, roaring with laughter. "You should've seen it, Draco!" Goyle howled. 

"We got Potter real good this time!" Crabbe shouted with glee. Draco stared at them with a look of befuddlement on his face. Crabbe laughed and said, "We had him up in the air and spinning around like a top!" 

"You should've seen it!" Goyle said again. 

Draco snorted. He would have liked to see Harry Potter spinning in midair. At least he wouldn't be blamed for it this time. "You know he's just going to go running to Dumbledore." 

Crabbe and Goyle appeared not to have thought about that, because their smiles suddenly disappeared. Quickly they jumped into their own beds and pulled the curtains shut. Shaking his head, Draco did the same, changing into his pajamas and going to bed. 


	2. Chapter Two

Morning came very quickly. Draco, the first to wake in his dormitory, got dressed and started down the stairs. Midway down, however, he changed his mind and went to get his broom. Instead of going to the Great Hall for breakfast, he headed straight down to the Quidditch pitch. No one would be down there at this hour and he could fly around the pitch at his leisure. But when he arrived he found that he was not the only one who wanted to be alone. 

Ginny Weasley was standing outside the Gryffindor changing rooms, holding her broom in one hand and a Quaffle in the other. "Hello," she said. "What brings you here?" 

"As if that's any of your business," he sneered. 

"I'm only trying to be friendly," she said defensively. 

"Don't waste your breath." Draco mounted his broom and pushed off from the ground. Once he reached a fairly high height, he looked down. The Gryffindor girl, he found, was no longer there. 

"Heads up!" she shouted, and he turned just in time to roughly catch the Quaffle that was soaring towards him. 

Having nearly fallen from his broom, he held onto the ball and straightened himself up. "What's your problem?" he yelled to her, hurling the Quaffle in her direction. Instead of sailing into her hands, it fell a few feet short and Ginny broke into a dive to catch it. He watched her until she caught it, and then Draco flew up to the goalposts, circling them and weaving in and out. 

"You know, my brothers hate your guts, but I don't think you're that bad." Ginny was suddenly beside him. 

Completely taken aback, he said, "Why are you even speaking to me? You're a _Gryffindor_, and I'm a _Slytherin_--we don't get along, remember?" 

She threw the Quaffle at his chest. "I don't conform to those things, like some people do. Besides, you're different. I've seen the way you act towards Crabbe and Goyle--you used to like them, but now you don't. You ignore almost everyone else and just act like some kind of antisocial." 

"I'm not going to kill anyone, if that's what you mean," Draco replied nonchalantly. 

"I wasn't implying anything of the sort." Ginny smiled. "I'd better get some breakfast. But I suppose you'll want to keep your distance from me." She flew down to the ground and gracefully dismounted her broom. 

Without truly knowing why, Draco followed her down to the pitch. Luckily, she didn't turn around, and he was able to walk behind her without her knowing. He didn't understand why, but he wished she would talk to him more. The frightening thing was, though, that the thought of it didn't bother him much or even at all. He followed her straight into the Great Hall and sat down at the Slytherin's table. "Hello, Blaise." 

"You're awfully late," Blaise Zabini said. "If you don't finish up quickly, you'll be late, and McGonagall will have your head if you're late." 

"Calm down," he said, gulping down his glass of orange juice. 

"I'd rather have Potions first," Blaise stated nervously. "Least I don't have to worry about Snape--he's fair to us Slytherins, unlike her. McGonagall's only nice to those Gryffindors." 

Draco rolled his eyes. "Maybe you should see Madam Pomfrey. She could get rid of those nerves that you've got. Besides, you're annoying me." 

"Oh, shove off." Blaise grabbed his things and left the Great Hall. 

Draco looked after him, rolling his eyes, and looked over the class schedule. He had Transfigurations first, then Potions, and after lunch, Astronomy. "Wonderful," he sighed, then finished his breakfast and walked down to Transfigurations. When he reached the classroom, realizing he was quite late, he sauntered in with the usual sneer on his face. 

"Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said slowly, "how nice to see you. Let's see, five points from Slytherin for your tardiness." 

Draco gave her a look of indifference and took a seat. Ron Weasley, who he had sat down next to by mistake, inched away, giving Draco a look of extreme disgust. Ignoring him, Draco spent the rest of the class period scribbling notes onto his parchment and drawing in the margin. 

"Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said suddenly, right before him. "Class is dismissed. You can go now." 

Snapping out of his daze, he grabbed his books and hurried out of the classroom, not even bothering to put them in his bag. The rest of the day was just as boring. Professor Snape ended up taking fifteen points from Gryffindor for various things involving Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, but the rest of the day was very uneventful. For that matter, until Quidditch began in October, the first two months of school were highly uneventful. 

It was October the thirteenth. Draco was atop his Nimbus 2001, staring down at the pitch far below. The Snitch was somewhere, but he hadn't spotted it yet. The Ravenclaw Seeker hadn't either, by the looks of it. The other Seeker was gliding about the pitch, jerking his broom this way and that, in order to get a better view. Draco had decided to simply stay where he was. There was no use flying about like a fool--it would show itself when it wanted to. He had been ignoring the scores that were constantly being called out, but Slytherin seemed to be winning. They usually did, of course, unless they were playing against Gryffindor. He glanced around, looking for any hint of gold. And then he saw it, a golden glimmer among the stands. The Snitch was fluttering next to the Headmaster's head--it was right below his left ear. Without hesitation, Draco shot off toward the topmost box. He bolted straight across the pitch, unaware of whether or not the Ravenclaw Seeker was on his way. When he was only inches away from catching the little golden ball, however, he barreled into Professor McGonagall. Moments later, the Ravenclaw Seeker tumbled into Professor Trelawney, who shrieked and toppled over. 

The Snitch was long gone and the match had to be cancelled. Professors McGonagall, Trelawney, and Dumbledore were sent to the Hospital Wing to be patched up (Trelawney had knocked the Headmaster to the floorboards when she fell). 

Draco felt miserable, more miserable than usual. He hurled a particularly large stone into the lake and leaned back against the oak tree. He heaved a sigh and closed his eyes. His father was in trouble with the Ministry of Magic--he had to be or else there wouldn't be this much secrecy. Lucius Malfoy had always been a secretive man, but he had never been so blatantly guarded with his own son. Draco angrily tossed his broom aside. What use was it if he was going to miss the Snitch and send three professors to the Hospital Wing? He threw another stone into the lake, grunting furiously. 

"Nice throw. Maybe you should be a Chaser instead." Ginny Weasley walked out in front of him. "Can I sit down?" 

"Do what you want," he said, not looking at her. 

"I'm sorry about what happened at the match." She took off her sweater and dropped it at her side. "It was a freak accident, Draco…the odds of that happening are--" 

"Look, you don't have to try to make me feel better," he interrupted. "I'm not upset about the match. We'll just play it again, I guess." 

"Well, er, what _are_ you upset about?" Ginny questioned, moving closer to him. 

"Nothing," he answered quickly. "It's nothing." He stood up suddenly. "And if it was something, I wouldn't want to talk about it." He slung his bag over his shoulder and picked up his broomstick. "Sorry, I'd better go. I've got three rolls of parchment due for Snape in the morning. Erm, sorry." He started off toward the castle, but she called after him. 

"Draco! Draco, wait!" She ran to catch up with him. "There's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up." 

"I wasn't planning on going," he said before she could continue. 

"Well, maybe you'd like to come along with me," Ginny offered. "It would just be the two of us--no Ron, or Hermione, or Harry, just you and me." 

"Er...sure, I guess," Draco replied. 

She smiled at him. "Great. Do you want to walk back together?" 

He shrugged. "Why are you being so nice to me, anyway?" 

"I don't know," she responded. "Everybody deserves a second chance, though, don't you think?" 

Draco nodded. "Yeah." They parted at the stairs and Draco went down to the Slytherin common room. For some reason, he was actually looking forward to the weekend. He and Ginny seemed to be becoming friends. He wrote a few more lines in his Potions essay about the misuse of truth potions, just to put himself over three rolls, and stuffed the parchment into his bag. A girl sat down beside him. "Hey, Kat." 

She put an arm around his shoulders. "Poor Draco, are you recovering from the Quidditch match?" 

"Yes, I've recovered," he replied, leaning back on her arm. 

"Ouch! Hey!" Kat laughed and smacked his arm. "Guess what?" He looked at her. "Blaise Zabini is taking me to Hogsmeade." 

"Oh, really?" He pat her head. "I'm sorry, now you're going to have to listen to his insufferable worrying all day." 

Kat shrugged. "I think he's kind of cute." 

"Cute?" Draco laughed. "I think you mean irritating." 

"No, I mean cute," Kat insisted. 

"All right." He looked over as someone emerged from the portrait hole. "Blaise is here, Kat. Why don't you talk to him?" 

"No, that's all right, I--" Kat sputtered. 

"Hello, Katherine," Blaise said a little nervously. 

She gave him a small smile as Draco stood up. "Well, I'll just leave you two alone," he said and headed to his dormitory. As he made his way up the staircase, he heard Kat say quietly, "You can call me Kat." He laughed a little and closed the door. It was late and he needed to get some sleep. In just a few days he would be walking along the path to Hogsmeade village. 


	3. Chapter Three

It was Saturday morning. Draco was supposed to meet Ginny outside the castle, where he was presently waiting. He had eaten very little for breakfast because of the churning feeling in his stomach. He hadn't been on many dates--not that this was a date--and he knew that she had. He zipped up his sweatshirt when a cold autumn wind began to pick up. 

"Hi, Draco," Ginny said breathlessly when she reached him. "Have you been waiting long? I woke up late because I was up half the night working on an essay." 

"I understand. I haven't been here very long." They started walking down the slightly cobbled path toward the all-Wizard village. "So, what do you want to do?" he asked uneasily. 

"Oh, I don't know," Ginny replied, shrugging. "We could go into the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer, or the Hog's Head, for that matter." Draco suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Oh." Her face fell. "I suppose you don't want to be seen with me. I should have known." 

"No, no," he said quickly. "C'mon, I'll buy you a butterbeer." He took her hand. 

She stared at him for a minute before they started walking again. When they reached Hogsmeade, they went straight into the Three Broomsticks and ordered two bottles of butterbeer from Madam Rosmerta. "This is nice. I never thought I'd be sitting across the table from Draco Malfoy." She giggled slightly. "So, are you as big a Quidditch fan as every other boy? You're an excellent Seeker--don't get me wrong--but do you really love it?" 

"I only play because my father wants me to," he said sullenly. "But it's all right, I guess. My family really isn't known for being all that good at sports. I know your brothers all played it." 

"Yeah. I'm not much good, though, and neither is Ron, really," she said. "Don't tell him I said that." 

"There's not much chance of that," Draco replied, "seeing as we're not exactly on speaking terms." 

"You should be," Ginny insisted. "You've got to put all this rivalry behind you." 

"It's hard," Draco said softly, "and…complicated." He took a drink from his bottle of butterbeer. "I don't expect anyone to understand." 

"If you ask me, you're just being stubborn--both of you." She turned as someone walked in. "Oh, great," she sighed. Draco spun around to see Ron, Harry, and Hermione walking inside. "Hopefully they won't see us," Ginny murmured. 

"Ginny!" Hermione called. "Grab me a butterbeer, Harry," she said and approached the table. "Who are you here with--oh…hello, Draco." 

He cleared his throat. "Hello, Hermione. Having a good year?" 

She looked taken aback. "Yes, thank you. I expect you are as well?" 

"Could be better," he replied honestly. 

"You know," Hermione said quietly, "I never thanked you for what you did last year. If you hadn't been there, we all could have been killed." She swallowed. "Erm, you two probably want to be alone. We'll sit somewhere else." 

"No, that's all right," Ginny said quickly. "You can sit here. C'mon, Draco, let's make some room." 

He rose a little and she pulled his chair closer to hers. "Maybe I'd better go," he suggested. 

"Don't be daft," Ginny dismissed. 

At that moment Ron and Harry arrived. Harry looked mildly surprised, while Ron looked dumbfounded. "What," he began slowly, "are you doing with _my sister_?" 

"What does it look like?" Draco smirked. 

"Ron, don't overreact," Ginny said. 

"I'd hardly call this overreacting," Ron said through gritted teeth. "He's probably trying to corrupt you." He pulled up a chair for himself and for Harry, and sat down. "As long as you're here, _Draco_, maybe you could tell Snape not to set such horrible essays." 

"I thought the truth potion essay was rather easy," Hermione commented. 

"Everything's easy for you," Ron retorted. 

"Well, I _do_ pay attention," Hermione shot back. "And if you did, you might not have such a difficulty in writing essays." 

"Would you two quit fighting?" Ginny said loudly. "We could all try to have a conversation--that would be nice, wouldn't it?" she asked hopefully. 

Draco took another swig of butterbeer. "I'm game." He noticed Harry remained very quiet. Perhaps having him here made Potter uncomfortable. 

"I'll stop if she will," Ron said grumpily. 

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "_I'm_ not the one who's arguing, Ronald." Receiving a warning look from Ginny, she said, "So, how has your sixth year been, Ginny?" 

"It's all right. The homework is a nightmare, but it's not as bad as last year's." She shrugged and, sensing the tension, said, "Draco and I were going to visit the Shrieking Shack, so I'll see you guys back in the common room, all right?" 

"'Bye," Harry finally spoke up, while Ron scowled. 

Hermione stood up and walked them to the door. "I'm sorry about that, Ginny. Harry's still feeling a bit…erm, well callous…toward you, Draco, so just forget about it. And Ron, well, he's just being a bit overprotective of you, Ginny." She cast a nervous glance in Harry and Ron's direction. "Well, I'd better get back. Have fun." 

"See you later," Ginny said and they left the Three Broomsticks. "I'm sorry, Draco, we shouldn't have come in the first place. We should have gone somewhere more secluded, like you said in the first place. Maybe we should just go back to Hogwarts." 

"Ginny," Draco said hastily, "I don't want to go back. Are we going to the Shrieking Shack, or not?" 

She quirked an eyebrow. "You still want to hang out?" 

"I wouldn't have said that if I didn't." When they reached the Shrieking Shack, Draco wrenched open the door and walked inside. "This place is great." 

Ginny stepped carefully on the rickety floorboards. "To tell you the truth, it gives me the creeps." 

"Really? I wouldn't have thought that from you." 

She grimaced as a bat flew overhead. "Are we really supposed to be here? I mean, it's not even allowed..." 

"Where's your sense of adventure?" He smiled. "You know, I can't explain it, but for some reason, I can talk to you. It's almost as if we've been friends for a long time. I mean, you're the last person I would have imagined myself going to Hogsmeade with. No offense," he added quickly. She shrugged. "Before this year, all I wanted was to be left alone. And now…everything's different." 

Ginny blushed. "Erm…thanks." She tucked her hair behind her ears and began to wring her hands. "I don't usually get this way," she explained, her voice quaking slightly. "Erm--what do you want to talk about?" 

"I wanted to thank you…for accepting me the way you have." His cheeks turned slightly pink. "I know I did some awful things last year…and my father did some terrible things, but I tried to do some good as well. I risked my life to help Harry--my father hasn't found out, but if he did, he'd probably throw me out onto the street." He sighed. "I've changed. Crabbe and Goyle--I can hardly stand them anymore. I've got new friends, but that doesn't seem to help. I've no respect around here anymore. I suppose Potter didn't tell anyone how I saved his neck last year. If it weren't for me, he'd be dead!" he finished bitterly. 

"I'm sorry," Ginny said after a long moment. 

"Stop apologizing for things you didn't do," he snarled. 

She backed away. "Ron never told me what you did. He doesn't speak very highly of you normally, so when he didn't say anything at all, I thought it was an improvement. So…erm, what _did_ you do?" 

He stared at her for a moment, and then began, "I was in the dungeons last year--I'm not sure what I was doing there, but Professor Snape was with me. It was after all students had been ordered out of Hogwarts. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, of course, didn't leave. They were in the dungeons that night as well. I heard screaming and wand fire and I was going to run away, but something made me move toward the noise. Somehow Snape and I got separated and I came upon a huge door. It looked as if it had been blasted through. When I looked inside, I saw Harry immediately--he was standing before this huge cloaked figure whose face I couldn't see. Hermione was on the ground; she wasn't unconscious because I could hear her weakly calling out to Harry. I couldn't see Ron at all." His eyes suddenly became very wide in the darkness of the Shrieking Shack. "And then the cloaked man raised his wand and cried something out. Harry was knocked to the ground and the man was raising his wand again, probably to mutter the Killing Curse. So, before I even had a chance to think about it, I ran into the room and stunned the man. Something happened, then, and I don't really remember any more…but he recognized me…Voldemort." 

Ginny let out a little gasp. "You haven't been worried all summer that he might…come after you?" 

Draco shook his head. "I'm not important to him, Harry Potter is." He leaned back on the railing and it creaked loudly. "So, now you know what happened. I'm actually surprised they didn't tell you." 

Ginny wrung her hands absently. "Ron's always blamed himself for what happened…he never seemed to want to talk about it." She checked her watch. "Oh, dear, it's late--I've still got that essay to finish. Sorry we have to cut this so short, but we'd better go." 

"You go ahead," he said. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Positive. 'Bye." He watched her hurry out of the creaking building. Draco was not in the mood to go back. And he especially did not want to be harassed by any Gryffindors or Slytherins about being at Hogsmeade with Ginny Weasley. He wandered around the Shrieking Shack for another half an hour, and then slowly headed back to the castle. He had made it back in time for dinner, but he really didn't feel much like eating after reliving that night. When he arrived at his dormitory later that evening, his raven was waiting for him with a letter. Draco untied the letter from Edgar's leg and opened it. It was another from his father. 

_My son,   
Once again, I hope you are well. I have some troubling news to tell you. Your mother thought I should wait, but I believe you must be told immediately. The Dark Lord has come to me, requesting my help, and I have no choice but to give it. He has informed me of an incident that occurred last year and I must press upon you the importance of never doing such a thing again. If you show even the slightest support for Harry Potter or your Headmaster, you will put me at risk. I know that I have been very secretive about this subject, but I have never been a supporter of Headmaster Dumbledore. Please do not reply to this letter and burn it immediately after reading it. There is already risk that it has been intercepted, but let us hope that it has not.   
Your father_

Draco had known it was bound to happen, and a few years ago, he might have thought it wonderful. However frightening it seemed, it was better to be on the right-hand of the devil than in his path. He burned the parchment and disposed of the ashes. He could not risk them being discovered. For the first time in his life, he didn't know what to do. What was the _right_ thing to do? It wasn't difficult to accept that his father was a Death Eater, but to support it was entirely different. He had to choose between his old life and his new one. 


	4. Chapter Four

The truth was he had been much happier being a nasty little Slytherin. The only thing he had cared about was besting Harry Potter and that had been a simple way to live. Now he cared about how others perceived him, how _Ginny Weasley_ perceived him--he didn't much care about what anyone else thought. She was important to him somehow. He had never told anyone about what had happened in the previous year, not his parents or his best friends. But he could talk to her and she would actually listen. He had only ever been that close to two other girls: Pansy Parkinson and Kat Williams. Pansy had been his girlfriend. She had the same acidic qualities that he had prized, though she had tired of his relentless quest to slander Harry Potter's name. Kat had just been a good friend, and she still was. He could trust her with his life if he needed to. He didn't want to betray her trust or Ginny's. 

"Mr. Malfoy, I am not going to ask you again," said Professor McGonagall sharply later that week. "Please turn Mr. Goyle into an ox like I have just showed the rest of the class with Miss Abbot." 

Draco walked to the front of the room where a rather small ox was feeding on a bunch of hay in a corner. He cleared his throat and muttered the incantation, "_Animalius oxen_," flicking his wand at Goyle. With a loud groaning noise, a large snout grew from his already large face, and his ears turned into horns. Unfortunately, Draco had done it wrong and Goyle was left with hooves for hands and feet, with a stubby tail growing out of his trousers. The rest of his body--legs, arms, torso--had remained human. 

"Well, it was a good attempt, Mr. Malfoy," said McGonagall, quickly changing Goyle and Hannah Abbot back. "This is a very difficult spell." Draco nodded and went back to his seat. "All right, now, the rest of you, get a partner and try it out." 

Draco worked with the others for the rest of the class period and before he knew it, the bell rang and Professor McGonagall called out, "Your homework is to perfect this transformation for next time. Class dismissed." 

He had an easy time in Potions. He finished his Deception Potion an hour before the class ended and spent the entire time watching others struggle with it. He still found it humorous the way Neville Longbottom still could not make an effective potion without the help of Hermione Granger. Incidentally, Neville's potion ended up exploding and he had started saying the nicest things about Professor Snape ("I guess we know it works," Ron Weasley had muttered.). 

"How did you finish so fast?" Pansy Parkinson asked as she corked her bottle of potion to hand in to Snape. "It took me the whole time." 

"I've always been rather good at Potions," Draco replied pompously. "See you later." 

"Yeah, 'bye." 

"Draco, wait up." 

He turned around to find Crabbe and Goyle rushing to catch up with him. He was going to keep walking, but instead he stopped. 

"Why don't you talk to us anymore?" Goyle asked, walking beside him. 

"I talk to you all the time," Draco lied, adjusting the bag slung over his shoulder. 

"No you don't," Crabbe added. "We didn't get a single owl from you over the summer holidays, and now you're treating us differently. Like on the train." He looked to Goyle for support, and he nodded vigorously. "You didn't say a word to us." 

"You haven't made fun of Harry Potter all year!" Goyle pointed out loudly. 

Draco shot him a loathing glare. "Keep it down, would you?" They turned down into a more secluded corridor. "This is why I never talk to you--you're both thicker than a ship's hull!" 

Goyle had to think about that for a while before he realized it was an insult. "Hey!" he cried. "What's wrong with you, anyway?" 

Draco sighed. "Nothing, nothing at all." He glanced over his shoulder. "C'mon." They walked for a few minutes before stopping again. There were an abundance of Gryffindors all making their way down the hallway, Harry Potter among them. "Well, well," Draco said, moving toward them, "I think we've found the Gryffindor common room. Hey, Potter!" he shouted. "This your common room?" 

Harry stopped and turned, watching Draco as he approached. "What do you want, Malfoy?" he asked. 

"Oh, nothing." Draco peered down the hallway. All of the Gryffindors he had seen had now disappeared. "So, it _is_ down here. I wonder which one--well it has to be one with a great fat woman in it, since she ran away during our third year." 

"Shut your face," Harry snarled. 

"Tut, tut, Potter," said Draco nastily, "you shouldn't say such things to your superiors." 

"You're not _superior_ to anyone," Harry said through gritted teeth. 

Draco glanced about. "Where's the rest of the famous trio? Perhaps Weasley and Granger have decided to elope. They could probably get the Shrieking Shack for under a Galleon." 

Crabbe and Goyle laughed, while Harry rolled his eyes. "Why are you even talking to me?" 

"Because you need to be taught a lesson," Draco answered. 

"Me?" Harry scoffed. "You know, I thought we had grown out of this little rivalry. I guess I was wrong." 

Draco turned to Crabbe and Goyle. "Get out of here--I'll deal with Potter on my own." 

"Can't we watch?" Crabbe whined. 

"No, now get out," Draco snapped. He watched them go, and then turned on Harry again. "We need to have a little discussion." Grabbing Harry's arm roughly, he walked quickly down the corridor, past the Fat Lady, and down a few others, to a part of the school that wasn't often frequented by students. It was dark, cold, and even the ghosts stayed away. 

Harry pulled himself free of Draco's grip, quickly whipping out his wand. "Now that you've got me alone, Malfoy," he said. 

"Put your wand away, I don't want to fight you," Draco said. He showed Harry his empty hands to prove he wasn't hiding his wand, and Harry slowly put his inside his robes. "I'd like to officially call a truce." 

"A truce?" Harry asked with a disgusted look on his face. "What for?" 

"Because I'm sick of thinking up ways to insult you and your friends," he said exasperatedly. When Harry didn't reply, he said, "Look, we don't need to be the best of friends or anything--I just don't want to have to harass you publicly anymore." 

"Well, you seemed to be enjoying yourself five minutes ago," Harry pointed out, crossing his arms. 

"I was just putting on a show for those two oafs," Draco explained. He extended his hand. "Truce, Potter?" 

"This isn't some trick, is it?" Harry asked uncertainly. 

"What would I gain from that?" Draco questioned seriously. 

"Self-satisfaction," Harry suggested. Draco shook his head and Harry tentatively took his hand. "But if you say anything about me, my family, or any of my friends, the truce is off and I'm coming after you." 

"Yes, well, if I do that, I'll be expecting Harry Potter's army to come after me," Draco smirked. Harry stared at him with a suspicious expression on his face. "What now, Potter?" 

"Perhaps you're ill," Harry suggested. "What about your father? What's he going to say when he finds out you've befriended Harry Potter?" 

"I haven't _befriended_ you, Potter," Draco replied nastily. He paused. "And anyway, I don't give a damn what my _father_ says about anything. Now get back to your lousy common room before I really hex you." 

Frowning, Harry turned and left. Draco stared after him. He couldn't stand Harry Potter--he just _hated_ the little git. He didn't care what anyone said--Potter wanted the attention. He started back to his common room, scowling the whole way. 

He had just reached the portrait hole when Kat emerged from it. "Draco, I've been looking for you." 

"Why?" he asked simply. 

"Your image is in trouble," she stated. 

"What are you raving about now?" Draco leaned casually against the wall, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. 

"Crabbe and Goyle say they saw you talking with Harry Potter," Kat explained. "Something about you shaking hands--some kind of a truce…." 

Draco scowled even more. "Those--I'm going to kill them--right now." 

He made for the portrait hole, but she stopped him. "Draco, if you go in there and hex them, that just proves what they said is true!" 

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" he cried desperately. "I can't have the whole school going on about how Potter and I have been cozying up to each other!" 

"It's either that or hex Potter in front for all to see," Kat suggested lamely. "And you can't do that--not if what they said is true." 

Draco looked at her. "So you believe them?" 

"Well, yeah, I do," she replied. 

"Great." He pulled out his smooth black wand. "Then I'll have to hex him. I'll do it tonight, after dinner." 

Kat sighed. "Just when I thought you'd gone soft." He started walking again, away from the common room. "Wait!" she cried, running to catch up. "What is Ginny Weasley going to say about all of this?" 

"I don't care," he said dismissively. "She should have known that I couldn't be trusted." 

"Draco." Kat frowned. "I thought you really liked her." 

"I thought I did too," he replied. "See you at dinner." 

Draco stared sullenly over the rim of his goblet at Harry. He was laughing about something, surrounded by friends. Draco didn't even have Crabbe and Goyle now. They were sitting at the end of the table with a bunch of burly sixth years Draco didn't normally socialize with. Well, his father would certainly be glad to hear that he'd beaten Harry Potter to a bloody pulp, though he'd probably be expelled for it. So what if he had made a truce the very day he set out to break it? He only had a few months left in the bloody school anyway. Finished with the meal, he got to his feet and stalked out of the Great Hall. Once outside, he waited by the doors for Harry to emerge. 

It seemed to take an eternity, but they finally came out. Ron and Hermione were arguing about something and Harry was bringing up the rear. "Hey, Potter!" Harry had just turned around when Draco yelled out, "Expelliarmus!" 

Harry's wand flew out of his hand and straight to Draco, who tossed it aside. "I should have known," Harry growled. "_Accio w_---" 

"_Petrificus totalus_!" Draco cried. Harry froze and toppled to the ground. "Oh, come on, Potter, get up," Draco taunted. "Go on, Granger help him," he said to Hermione, who looked fearful. But before he could speak again, Ron had thrown himself toward Draco, knocking him to the ground. He had completely abandoned his wand, which had clattered to the floor. When Draco got over the winded feeling, he began punching back, at anything his fist came in contact with--he couldn't see anymore. 

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione shrieked. "Please--both of you--stop!" 

Draco finally made contact with something that caused Ron to fall back. He grabbed his wand and held it to Ron's neck. "I could kill you right now if I wanted to, Weasley." 

Ron narrowed his eyes, and then spit in Draco's face. Draco backed away, wiping his face of the bloody saliva. Ron kicked out savagely and Draco slid backwards across the floor, clutching his stomach. 

By now a crowd had gathered around them. Someone was shouting, and then everything went quiet. 

He woke up in the Hospital Wing the next morning. He glanced around blearily and tried to sit up. Hearing his painful groans, Madam Pomfrey walked over. "You're lucky you weren't expelled, Mr. Malfoy," she said sternly. "You did a number on Weasley over there." 

"I hardly touched him," he managed to croak. 

"Hm." She fumbled with a bandage on his forehead and roughly pulled it off. 

"Ouch!" he cried, slapping a hand to the wound. 

"Well, don't contaminate it with your dirty hands!" she exclaimed. Madam Pomfrey examined his other healing wounds and hurried off to tend to Ron. "Can I go now?" he questioned and she waved a dismissive hand at him. He wasn't hurt too badly, he thought as he walked down the corridor--of course, he hadn't been in front of a mirror yet. But there was still one more matter to deal with that might land him back in the Hospital Wing. 

"You think you're really clever, don't you?" Ginny Weasley snapped. "What, was all that stuff you said a bunch of lies? Were you trying to get some _Gryffindor secrets_ out of me, then?" She hit his shoulder roughly. 

"No," he said defensively. "It wasn't like that at all." 

"Then what was it like?" she demanded. Her face was flushed with fury. "Was your perfect little Slytherin image being threatened? It obviously means more to you than I do," she said bitterly. "You know, I can't believe I actually _trusted_ you!" she shouted in wounded tones. "I thought you were different--I thought you cared about more than yourself and fulfilling your little Dark fantasies! I thought you cared about _me_! What did you think I would do? Just forgive you? You _attacked_ my brother and my friend!" 

"The only person I attacked was Harry," he said, finally defending himself. She narrowed her eyes angrily. "You're right, you know. Only a foolish little girl would have believed me. You should know that my loyalties have always lied with my family and _not_ with any childish schoolboy crush." 

Tears welling up in her eyes, she drew her fist back and punched him in the face. He staggered back, and walked away, rubbing his jaw. "Fine! Just walk away, then! You're a bastard, Malfoy, and I hate you!" she screamed. 

He didn't let the sniffling sounds bother him. He couldn't let them. Like he had told her, his loyalties lay with his family, not with her. He muttered the password and stepped into the common room. Crabbe and Goyle, and the rest of the Slytherins in the room cheered. 

"You knocked Weasley on his raggedy arse!" one yelled. 

"I've never been prouder of being a Slytherin!" another exclaimed. 

Malfoy ignored them all, except one. "You idiot, now you're going to be miserable for the rest of the year," Kat said seriously when they were alone in his dormitory. "You know it's true. God, and I thought beating Potter would be bad for your relationship, but punching her own _brother_---" 

"_There is no relationship_," he nearly shouted. "There never was! And there never will be!" He was breathing heavily and the last thing he needed was somebody telling him all the things he'd been telling himself all morning. 

"I'm sorry," Kat said quietly. "You probably don't want to hear this right now." 

"I don't _need_ to hear it, Kat," he spat. "Don't you think I haven't thought about all of this?" He kicked his bedside table, knocking several vials of potion to the floor. "I don't know what to do! A year ago, I would've thought having a father in league with the Dark Lord was the best thing next to seeing Potter dead. But now…I mean, I always suspected, but I never thought…I never thought he'd really do it…." He put his aching head in his hands. "This is all his fault. Why couldn't I have normal parents?" 

"Draco, I know you can figure this out," she said, putting an arm around his shoulders. "You always do." She paused a moment. "You know, I admired you from my very first year here, and not when you acted all tough, either. I watched you…diligently working on your essays and homework assignments, with that thoughtful expression on your face." She laughed softly. "I didn't like you for being tough and a bully, I liked you for the other things. For one, you were a lot more focused then. Now, everything's seemed to have flown out the window. I wish you would tell me why." 

He pulled his hands away from his face and slowly told her about how he had saved Harry's life during the previous year. He explained that he didn't know why, but that something had drawn him to do it, and that nothing had been the same since. He then told her about receiving the letter detailing his father's involvement with Lord Voldemort. 

All she could say was, "So, what do _you_ think you should do? Don't think about what anyone will say or do to you--just answer the question." 

"I want to be a normal Wizard," he stated. "I don't want to have to worry about my father. I don't want to have to worry about myself." He paused and looked away. "And I don't want to have to answer this question, to choose. How can I choose between my family and everyone else--between good and bad?" 

"Your family isn't bad, Draco," Kat said weakly. 

"Yes it is," he said. "For God's sake, my father's a Death Eater." 

"That doesn't mean you have to be," Kat responded slowly. 

"I hardly have a choice," he said sullenly. 

"Yes you do!" she retorted. 

"Well, then I don't want to be!" He was on his feet, shouting. "I don't want to go to Azkaban when Voldemort loses!" 

Kat watched him with concerned eyes. After a moment, she smiled. "Draco, I think you've made your decision." 

"But…," he began, befuddled. Defeated, he sat back down on his bed. "So, that's it, then?" She nodded. "What do I do now?" 

"You could apologize to Ron and Harry," she suggested. 

"Apologize?" he asked with disgust. 

"Yes! They hardly deserved to be hexed and beaten up," Kat said, laughing at his stubbornness. "Draco, you should apologize." 

"No way." He crossed his arms, turning his face away. 

She kissed his cheek and said softly but sternly, "Apologize," and then left the dormitory.


	5. Chapter Five

Author's Note: Since I keep forgetting to do a disclaimer, I might as well do one in the last chapter. All of the characters in this story, except Katherine Williams, belong to J.K. Rowling. If any of the characters are _out_ of character, I'm sorry, but it was all part of the story and there for a purpose. Thanks to all the reviewers, especially the ones that gave me feedback, because feedback (positive _and_ negative) is always good. On to the last chapter.... 

He wasn't planning on apologizing. How could he? He wouldn't even know where to begin. _Sorry, chaps, but I was just having some trouble deciding how I want my life to go. You happened to get in the way, of course, but I really didn't mean anything by it._ Yeah, right. He would just live out the rest of the year the way it had always been. 

Crabbe and Goyle once again took their places at his sides and barrelled into anyone who didn't move out of his way in the corridors. He made cracks about the Weasleys and the Potters at any chance he could get and he still found it very amusing. Kat was a little upset with him at first, but she came around after a month, saying at least he was back to normal again. 

It was toward the end of the year that the unthinkable happened. Harry, Ron, and Hermione disappeared as per usual. Nobody thought much of it--they never did. Draco simply had more time to brood over his next maddening insult. The very next day, however, they were back and Draco received a letter. He found it slightly unusual that it had come just before the rest of the mail. He read through it and felt his stomach drop. His father was dead. He read it again and again, but each time it said the same thing. 

He didn't cry--he just couldn't believe it. How could his father be dead? _How_? Then it dawned on him. Potter did it. That's why he was gone, of course, to stop Voldemort once again. And in the process, his father must have gotten involved, so Potter _killed_ him. 

All those hours he had spent completely clueless of what to do…now he knew what to do. 

Six years later, Draco Malfoy wondered what had made him do this, finally recalling the moment when he had received the letter. He drew his cloak tighter about his body to keep out the cold autumn wind and held tightly onto his wand. Staring up into the sky, he spotted the Dark Mark he had conjured. When would they come? They should have arrived by now. 

He felt he had avenged his father's death a hundred times by now, ruthlessly murdering so many people…. 

Suddenly he heard voices shouting. He could safely watch from behind the bushes as an eerie green light fell upon the Aurors and Ministry workers searching the area. 

"How many tonight?" one asked. 

"Two dead, three tortured," another replied. "With all of these attacks, there won't be a Wizard left who's not working for You-Know-Who." 

"Where's Harry Potter when you need him, huh?" The man chuckled grimly and Draco scowled. He hoped Harry Potter was dead or tortured so horribly that he couldn't recognize his own mum. He pulled his hood over his head and went deeper into the woods. He would tell his master what he had done to them, how he had long suspected the family and had gone to their home to get information from them, how they had refused and how he had tortured them. Two of them, weak, had died, while the others simply collapsed. Though he had known the family, he was somehow blinded against recognition and emotion. 

Draco cursed himself over and over for saving Harry's life in his sixth year at Hogwarts. He cursed himself for becoming soft and weak. If he hadn't been so foolish, perhaps his father would be alive now. 

He Apparated into a dark room, where a single candle gave off a cold light and a man sat in a high-backed chair with his long fingers clasped together. "Ah, Malfoy," said an icy voice. 

"My Lord." Draco bowed low. 

"Tell me, what of the Weasleys?" 


End file.
